There’s no question the movies of Wes Anderson are not for everyone. I remember sitting in the (then) Rave in East Ridge watching “Moonrise Kingdom” on a stormy afternoon with about 15 other people. About half an hour into it, one couple expressed audible disgust and walked out.

Then a thunderstorm knocked out the power for at least 20 minutes. The other 13 people and I waited patiently, unwilling to give up the story. When the film finally resumed, I was delighted I’d stayed.

It’s likely reaction to Anderson’s newest film, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” will be equally polarizing. I was unable to find out when this movie will open in Chattanooga (independent film house, you cannot arrive fast enough), but it’ll get here eventually, and when it does, some will love it for Anderson’s trademark stylization—and some will loathe it.

But an unbelievable cast that includes Ralph Fiennes, F. Murray Abraham, Adrien Brody, Bill Murray, Tom Wilkinson and an unrecognizable Tilda Swinton is reason enough to give this adventure into a lost world of fading opulence and romance a wink and a whirl.